Fifty shades of Slytherin
by HermyLuna2
Summary: JK Rowling can convince me that she was innocent while writing how huge Hagrid is, but never that she wasn't aware about her most obvious pun. In which I attempt to catch the perverted Slytherin heart (or lack thereof) for DobbyRocksSocks. Labeled humor but it's coming from someone who laughs about "I'm Black no you're white" and I Ronman, so...
1. Epigraph

Ruthless like a snake  
>Crawling in the dust, the path of lust<br>Whispers of delight, passion in the night  
>In the snowfields my childhood died<p>

-_Lords of Acid_, "_Get Up, Get High_"


	2. 1

**Corrigenda**

"Art thou sure about the name 'Slytherin', oh mighty Salazar?" Helga Hufflepuff inquired.

Salazar looked at her deynously. "Wherefore would I not be?" he resouned icily. "It is mine name! As if 'Hufflepuff' means anything".

"That is kind of Helga's point.." Rowena Ravenclaw gan hesitatingly.

"Our foursome already said that the houses would be named after our own names. Anon, I declare this argument as ended!" Godric Gryffindor stated. And ilke with everything that the imposing red-haired wizard stated, the two witches accepted.

"Graunt mercy!" Salazar was despiteous. How dared they deeme the name that he was born with, that he hadst inherited from lots of influental, wealthy wizards before him, as lewed, just because their own minds were soiled by filth of lascivious nature?

Gryffindor hadst been his closest gossib but sith lately, his freend hadst started to mingle with Muggles and Mudbloods... even went as far as saying that Hogwarts should be a school for everyone! That was outrageous!

Most Muggles, the uncultivated, wlatsom wyghts, casted off their own children when they found out about their magickal ability. Godric believed it was just _cowardice_ the Muggles needed to get rid of, like one's soul was naught but a simple crop one could cut off the rotten parts from! Nay, those Muggles were rotten to their cores!

That Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had agreed with Gryffindor without batting an eyelash and Salazar saw his vision of a school that only selected those of pure blood tobrest, dissappear in the garderobe.

That was, as long as he did not intervene. If the harvest of thine views is anyhow others hate, thou canst as well make being feared thy fate, he thought.

Yes, he would unwistly use a moste ancient kynd of magick, the translated runes of Herpo the Foul, and wo and unthank would befall the others, would they refuse to listen to him...

He would create a secret chamber underneath the castle, and in ther would rest a creature of great beauty, the aldermost imperilous thing known to wizardkynd.. abyding to be told to slither out by his only true heir.


	3. 2

**Adrian Loses It **

Adrian Pucey was notorious for being the only member of the Slytherin Quidditch team who had never done it. Unlike Terence Higgs, who had not made breaking the rules and his opponent's jaws as his major tactic but wasn't above it either, Adrian was a total cheat virgin.

When Slytherin had lost another Quidditch match because Adrian had played too fair, Marcus Flint grabbed his wand and pointed it at Adrian's locker, making it explode with a loud bang, before punching a dent in his own with an even louder shake.

Adrian, who still stood cowered with his arms covering his head, did not dare to look directly at his muscular Quidditch captain, so he looked at the corner of their changing room instead.

"BLOOD! WHAT WILL IT TAKE FOR ME TO SEE MORE BLOOD IN OUR MATCHES, PUCEY?!" Flint screamed. He looked out of his mind with rage, until he seemed to calm down a little and narrowed his eyes, which were translucantly grey like rainpools.

"I-I don't know" Adrian replied helplessly towards the ground.

Now, Flint came very close, trapping Adrian between his large frame and the locker next to his own exploded one, still holding his wand firmly in his quivering fist. The overwhelming smell of sweat entered Adrian's nostrils.

"It's almost as if you don't take delight in it!" Flint mused angrily, before looking Adrian in the eyes again. "Is that true, Pucey? You don't take pleasure in seeing the Gryffindors lose?"

"O-of course I do" Adrian said as confidently as he could. In reality, he cared more about Slytherin winning than about Gryffindor, or another team for that matter, losing, but he rather bit his tongue off than saying that out loud. He wished he was as brave as his other teammates and was able to hurt the other team's players in the way the others did, but a small part of him also cringed a bit at the thought.

"Not enough!" Flint concluded, shaking his head in impatience. "I think I'll have to find someone else-" He lowered his wand and got started with removing his sweat-stained Quidditch robes.

"NO!" Adrian screamed more desperately than he intended. He loved Quidditch. It was his life. Flint couldn't take that from him!

"I'll give you one last chance to better your life" Flint grumbled. Adrian didn't know whether to sigh with relief or tense with worry.

Months went by, until it was finally the time for their next match, against Ravenclaw. The chilly cold was only compensated for a tad by the gentle February sun. Adrian and most of his teammates shivered as they entered the slippery Quidditch field and all the Slytherin students cheered.

Marcus Flint shook his fist towards his team. "It's time to play dirty!" he shouted with a magically enhanced voice, and all the Slytherins answered him with a loud roar, except for Adrian, who was afraid that he was going to puke once he opened his mouth.

Like always, Madame Hooch arrested Flint by firmly grabbing the end of his broomstick. "What did I say the other matches about a fair game?" she barked.

"I don't know, madam" Flint answered semi-innocently.

"Nonsense! I will notice every single trespassing of you lot!" Madam Hooch snapped and let go of Flint's broom with dislike.

"Strict old cow" Keeper Miles Bletchley said under his breath. From the other end of the field, the Ravenclaws were approaching and gathered around Hooch as well.

"Mount your brooms, please" she announced and blasted on her whistle.

Adrian loved the sight of ground disappearing and making way for clouds, of the drag of gravity making way for sickening turns into the air, of an easy-going daze being replaced by the tensing of all senses and the feeling of safety slipping controlledly out of his sweaty palms. He followed the Quaffle with his eyes, which was flying in the other half of the field.

"AAANND the Quaffle is taken by Jeremy Stretton" sounded the annoying, biased voice of commentator Lee Jordan.

"Caught by Leeah Chambers - Oh! No! She was shadowed by Graham Montague, who took it from her in a, methinks, beastly manner"

Adrian smiled viciously and watched Graham throw the Quaffle to Flint, who forcefully threw the Quaffle in his direction with a high fling. He almost fell from his broom while being hit by it in stomach. He remembered the words of Flint:

"_Remember, Pucey, this time it's not about something meek as trying to score. If you can hit a player of the opposite team with that Quaffle hard enough it's better, because they will soon lose it again anyway"_

So instead of throwing the Quaffle into the welcomingly stretched out hands of Cassius Warrington, Adrian smashed it with all his might into the face of one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, Jason Samuels, who let out a blunt cry. Then he quickly dived downwards out of fear for revenge.

"That's cheating! A very low blow, and an odd move coming from Adrian Pucey, who everybody believed to be one of the most decent players amongst the swin-" Jordan screamed, and McGonagall interrupted him. "JORDAN!"

Madam Hooch furiously blowed on her whistle.

Then Adrian was suddenly hit by a disgustingly familiar, heavy pain of collapsing with a Bludger that send sharp stings through his forehead. Tears sprung in his eyes, he saw stars and felt how his head was hot with a dull, nauseating pounding.

"That Pucey got what he deserved from Jason Samuels - I am sorry, professor McGonagall -"

Adrian was more determinated and confident than ever. Through a haze of pain, his eyes swifted over the other players. The Quaffle was now in the possession of Cassius. Great, they had somehow snatched it from Ravenclaw. Roger Davies tried to snatch it back, but was almost knocked off his broom by Montague bumping into his shoulder .

Cassius flew towards the Ravenclaw goal post.

"Aanndd Cassius Warrington goes for it! Boo! Hiss!" "JORDAN!" "And he throws, and - ooowwwwww! NO! He scores! 1-0 for the serpents!"

Adrian cheered loudly and he saw Marcus Flint ecstatically shake his fist, until a Bludger hit into his direction by Stretton hit him in the gut.

"Yeah, nice for you, Marcus Flint!" Lee Jordan screamed.

Then McGonagall's stern voice said: "Players, please do not mind mr. Jordan. I will take over commentating this match today for mr. Jordan happens to be, unfortunately, in more aroused mood than usual!"

"No! Professor, you can't mean this!" Jordan yelled, but his voice trailed off due to McGonagall's magically enhancing charm on it wearing off. Justice, finally, Adrian thought.

He held his breath when he saw the blurred figure of Laurens Bradley speed towards their goal post. McGonagall said: "Ravenclaw is in Quaffle possession! Laurens Bradley is heading to score -"

Then there was a loud cheering from the Ravenclaw public, meaning that Bradley had succeeded. Adrian groaned.

"BLETCHEY! YOU WORTHLESS IDIOT!" he heard Flint scream.

Now it really comes down to my readliness to play dirty, Adrian thought. He desperately tried to come up with a foul plan, but it was as if he suddenly had dust for a brain.

"Now, Slytherin has the Quaffle again, Marcus Flint throws it to Warrington-"

Cassius made the unexpected move of briefly headbutting the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, before he threw the Quaffle towards Adrian.

Adrian looking around, panicking. He had to do something vile and unexpected too. But what? He fled into the wrong direction to win time.

"Adrian Pucey is really acting kind of strange, lately, what the hell is he doing?!" he heard McGonagall's stern voice.

Adrian almost collapsed with a very surprised looking Duncan Inglebee. Suddenly, he knew what he had to do, the least thing that Inglebee would expect from him. He hit Inglebee in the face with the Quaffle and grabbed Inglebee's Beater bat. With a harsh pull, he filched it from the Beater's grasp. With the Beater bat in his hand, he sped in the direction of Seeker Cho Chang, grabbed her by the collar of her Quidditch robes and hit her in the face with the Beater bat as hard as he could.

Chang let out a miserable cry that turned Adrian's intestines into ice, and blood was flying everywhere.

Hooch blasted so shrilly on her whistle that it pierced Adrian's ears.

"PUCEY! YOU ARE DISQUALIFIED FOR THIS MATCH BECAUSE OF AN UNACCEPTABLE ASSAULT!" she yelled.

Chang was whirling down rapidly and eventually crashed on the ground, where she was dragged towards the hospital wing, looking very shaken. Adrian was wrapped up too much in his enjoyment from having succeeded in cheating for the first times in his life that he did not bother to take a second look at the injured Seeker. He did not want to spoil his own victory. The rest of the match he watched on the tribune. Chang was replaced by Ravenclaw's reserve Seeker, Balfour Rosier. Adrian grinned deviously. Everyone knew that Rosier was absolutely terrible.

Cassius managed to score again and Adrian's own cheers were drowned by the ones of his fellow Slytherins.

Suddenly, McGonagall cried out: "This has never happened before! Terence Higgs caught the snitch... accidentally, by letting it fly in one of his sleeves! Well, then that means... The match is over! Slytherin has won the game!"

Ravenclaw's groans were drowned by Slytherin's ecstatic screams. Adrian grinned widely as everybody landed and the Ravenclaws hugged each other miserably while his own teammates slapped each other happily on the back.

Back in the changing room, Marcus Flint gave him an high five, for the very first time in his history as a Slytherin Chaser.

"Well done, Adrian!" he panted. "I had not thought you had it in you, but I was wrong! Congratulations! I think I will keep you"


	4. 3

**Laurels for Daphne**

Daphne Greengrass flicked back her shiny strawberry-blonde hair and tried to listen to her friend Pansy Parkinson, who was complaining that it was 'that annoying time of the month again'. Pansy was referring to the Bloody Baron, who was again trying to get visitors for one of his many deathday parties, that he organized because he had forgotten his real deathday due to grief about the Grey Lady, or something. According to Pansy, they were boring, macabre and all the same.

Daphne did not know, because she had pretended to be sick every time her friends had went.

She overthought her life. Until now, everything had went exactly the way she wanted it. She had been sorted into Slytherin by that musty old hat, she had immediately befriended the popular Pansy and her gang of girls from which none of them was prettier than her, and even though she said so herself, she had quite a lot of magic, passing all of her classes easily. But now, five years after she had become a student at Hogwarts, she realised that things weren't perfect at all.

She was simply too beautiful for her own good. Most of her classmates, including Draco Malfoy and his two square-shaped, worthless friends Crabbe and Goyle, lately stared at her as if she was some sort of veela when she walked by. This was problematic, because she was not interested in Draco Malfoy, his personal bodyguards, or any other boy for that matter.

She tried to look at Millicent Bulstrode as stealthily as possible. Was she like Millicent? Did she play for the other Quidditch team? Daphne made a disgusted face. _Of course _she was not like Millicent. She had class; she wasn't such a brutish looking creature and she sure as hell didn't care about Quidditch. Maybe she was going to end up with a strange fondness for goats, like that Aberforth nutcase from that Hog's Head pub... She shuddered at the thought.

"Hey Pansy, fancy a drink with me?" Draco Malfoy shouted smugly as they walked through the corridors.

"Forget it, Draco, this week is the Bloody Baron's february party!" Pansy shouted back because she wanted to play 'hard to get' again after her mistake of having flung herself in his arms yesterday because she 'tripped'.

Daphne sighed. It was obvious that Pansy had a crush on Draco after having fawned over him on and off since her first schoolday, but couldn't she understand that he was only asking Pansy to drink something with him because he hoped she would come along too? She didn't meant to offend Pansy, it was just the truth. And more often than not, the truth hurts - if you are not called Daphne Greengrass, that is. Daphne smirked.

"I don't understand a thing about you, Pansy!" Tracey Davis cried out shrilly when Draco and his trolls had disappeared. "You have been waiting for this moment forever, and you just said you hated the Baron's deathday parties as much as we do!"

Tracey looked at Daphne for support, but when Daphne looked away uninterested, she asked Millicent: "What do you think, Mills?"

Millicent vaguely grunted. She couldn't care less either - of course she couldn't. Pansy had only befriended Millicent to look better herself by comparison and Millicent knew it. Also, in this case, she could probably relate more to Draco than to Pansy.

"I miss Sally-Ann" Tracey sniffled dramatically. Daphne and Millicent rolled their eyes.

"Enough! Sally-Ann is 'poisoned by a Venomous Tentacula', she won't be coming back! Don't pretend you miss her because she was easy to steal makeup from!" Pansy snapped at Tracey. Sourly she looked around.

"Just...come, everyone of you!" she barked in her usual commanding voice, and because they had no choice, they followed her to the Slytherin Commonroom.

To Daphne's disgust, she saw a tall, dark-skinned boy talking to a gangly boy with black hair and fair skin. Blaise Zabini was hanging around there with Theodore Nott.

They were both freaks who preferred their own company to being part of a group, even though Draco sometimes tried to convince Pansy that Theodore was "...quite okay, if you get to know him better".

The problem was, Daphne had no interest in getting to know Theodore better. She gestured to the other girls they needed to go to their dormroom, but Pansy blatantly ignored it. Of course, Pansy always loved attention, especially when it was male attention. Daphne felt close to puking.

As a way of greeting, Pansy snatched the book Theodore was reading and read the title aloud: "Dealing with 'it' by Sully Aquino. Care to enlighten us what 'it' means, Theodore?"

Theodore blushed scarlet and mumbled something under his breath that sounded like: "...it was hard...". Daphne produced one of her trademark merciless giggles, along with Tracey and Millicent, although Millicent's laugh sounded lower and more gruff.

"Actually, 'it' means the loss of his father, who passed away yesterday" Blaise commented icily, staring at Pansy with a dark, smoldering look.

Now it was Pansy's turn to blush, until she spat: "That...that bloody writer's fault for choosing such a retarded title, then!" , and sealed the argument with an added: "I did not know you had friends, Zabini! Creep!"

Blaise just ignored her like she was some kind of insect, and started reading the Daily Prophet. Daphne wanted to get out of there already before any of the guys would notice her, but unfortunately, just before the others also decided to head towards their dormroom already, Blaise looked up from the paper and asked: "_You _aren't as silly as your friend, are you, Greengrass?"

Daphne stared into Blaise's handsome face and did not quite know what to say, until she heard herself answer coldly: "Yes, I am. I am completely the same. Or in fact, I think I'm even more ignorant"

Blaise looked unpleasantly surprised in his typical haughty manner, but when Daphne followed Pansy, Tracey and Millicent towards the girl's dormrooms, he shouted desperately after her: "Prove it, Daphne! Because I do not believe you! I know you are different!"

Daphne sighed loudly. "He is so annoying" she stated. Millicent looked at her as if she was speaking a language from another planet, but both Pansy and Tracey glared at her in envy.

"It's just not fair!" Pansy shouted. "_I _was the one giving them attention, trying my best to make them notice me, and who do they end up liking? You! It's always you, Daphne!" Indignant tears welled up in her eyes, and for once her face looked less harsh.

"Look, I told you already, I am not enjoying it!" Daphne spat back. When would the fact finally penetrate Pansy's thick skull? "I don't see it as a blessing. It's more like a curse, really".

"Oh, of course" Daphne's honest confession had only succeeded in making the look in Pansy's eyes seem even more stinging and her voice was dripping with venom. "A _curse_. Well, then I'd die for being cursed." She ran towards her bed and buried her own coarse-looking yet unremarkable face into her cushion.

That night, Daphne lay awake. She thought about Pansy's words. Wasn't there a real curse for that, or something? To change appearances forever? To transform into somebody, or even... something else?

She huffed. No, she wouldn't let Pansy guilt-trip her, although there was another voice in her head that whispered to her that she wasn't just interested in it because of Pansy.

When she rolled over, closed her eyes and eventually fell asleep, she had a nightmare about Blaise kissing her and calling her 'the most beautiful girl he had ever seen'.


End file.
